What the Gods Give.... They Can Take
by RatheraMutemwiya
Summary: Umm.... the product of a disturbed mind. When I read over this, it has waay too much of my original char in it, so you might need to read my other fics to understand that. It's about Scarab's.... death?! :-(
1. Default Chapter Title

What the gods give...

  
  


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Disclaimer: You already know. This is an alternate reality story, enjoy! 

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Scarab lay motionless in the darkness of his bed chamber, his chest rising only slightly with each shallow breath. He knew he was dieing, and this time, there was nothing he could do about it. Now that the issue finally presented itself for speculation, fifty lifetimes was a rather variable time span. Some people may live to be over a hundred years old, some died before they are even born. Thanks to him, the young Prince had only lived 12 short years.   
  
The Prince. How often that miserable child had eluded his grasp was beyond counting. He had spent all of his life trying to catch that boy, to gain immortality. All for naught. All he had managed to do was make an annoyance of himself to the prince's guardians. And he had come so close to succeeding at times that he could anticipate the sweet taste of victory.   
  
And what battles they had had. A bitter smile crossed his face as he remembered the rush of adrenaline, the exhilaration of combat mixed with the anticipation of the outcome. How many times had he barely managed to escape death at their hands? Only to lie now, totally depleted of strength. A shadow of what he once was, flickering as the flame of life is caught up in the winds of eternity. Winds he had longed to harness and ride.   
  
What was the point? What would he have done had he actually managed to win? He knew nothing other than the pursuit of his goal, what then, after he had acquired his prize? He could hardly continue to play the part of Harrison Stone, for what would that bring him? Nothing. And he would never allow himself to become as the Council, of whom he'd heard so much of from Rathera.  
  
Rathera. The very word conjured up the image of her beauty, and her ferocity and quick wit. His apprentice, his assistant, his lover. What would happen to her when he was gone? Who could she go to? She had forfeit the trust of her fellow guardians, and her own beloved brother, just to be with him. Even with him gone, that trust could never be restored, and then what would happen to her? Everyone needs someone to talk to, to laugh with, to cry with, to share life with.  
  
She had been there for him, but where had he been? He had been almost too obsessed with a tantalizing dream of the future to realize the dream he was living. How many times had she come to him for support, only to find the only thing he could talk about was another plan to capture the Prince? How often had her loyalty been torn between her love for him, her love for her brother, and her loyalty to the gods who had placed the prince's life in her hands? But she bore the strain when it would have been so much easier to simply choose one side and stay there. There had been times when he thought her treacherous, and certainly the guardians felt the same, but she could never bring herself to fully abandon either.  
  
Maybe, if he hadn't decide to betray the pharaoh, and destroy the prince. Maybe if he had led the normal life of a court adviser, she would not have had such a heavy emotional burden. But Rathera probably would not have stayed with him then either. Perhaps his back-stabbing nature had been part of what attracted her.  
  
And he would never have been able to live that life. There was something about the satisfaction of having a plan succeed, something about making the lives of others a little more . . . exciting, that kept him scheming. Nothing beat the energy provided by having good friends and great enemies. Looking back over his life, he decided that there was only one thing he would have done differently.  
  
He would have spent a little more time with Rathera and Shehera. Who knows? As resourceful as the two of them are, maybe they could have come up with a fail-proof plan together. Maybe even, as a family.  
  
He heard the door of his outer chamber open, and a familiar voice call, "Scarab?"  
  
Rathera. Half of him wanted desperately to see her again, the other half wished she did not have to see him in this wasted state. The door to his bed chamber swung in, and he opened his eyes a crack, just enough to see her approach, framed by the light shining in from the other room.  
  
---~~~---   
  
Rathera crept up to Scarab's bed, kneeling beside him and reaching with trembling fingers to clasp his cold hand within her own. So, Scarab's last stolen lifespan was quickly reaching its end, Rathera realized with a detatched calmness. It stood to reason- he had held back from Anubis' realm for as long as was possible. Now, Scarab would die.   
  
Scarab. No one, neither her friends among the Council slaves nor the guardians of Prince Rapses, was capable of understanding Rathera's affection for the dark souled mage. Likelier than not, Scarab himself did not understand what drove her to stay at his side. And even she did not- all she knew was that deep in her heart, her time with Scarab, first as his apprentice then as his lover, had brought her move happiness than anything else in her afterlife or life.   
  
Yet now, he lay dying. What could she possibly do without him? The undesirable answer came to her unbidden - she would be forced to wed Lord Mishran, to live forever in his power, to become one of the ruling Council she and her fellow slaves feared and loathed. Her only other choice was to seek release in a second death before Mishran's yoke tightened upon her. And even then, Scarab and she would not be reunited in the Field of Reeds as was afforded to most Egyptian couples. For Rathera had already been condemned to the eternal isolated damnation all of an "evil" nature were left to suffer, and whether or not her beloved was also thusly sentenced, their paths would not again meet.   
  
Scarab _would_ fail in the weighing of the heart ceremony, that much was near certain. Rathera shuddered to think of the effects the torments would have on Scarab. She knew what most did not- that for all his pride and bluster, Scarab had grown increasingly frail with the passing of the years, his once strong and youthful body worn down to a decrepit shell. The suffering would not destroy him... no, destruction would be too simple, too kind...   
  
And therein would lie Rathera's true torture for the rest of her existence, whether that existence be an animate one or otherwise. The mage winced at these painful thoughts as they passed through her mind like cruel blows. To know of his suffering but remain unable to prevent... Rathera knew she could not bear such a thing.   
  
Would Scarab think of her during his suffering? Not likely, for such torture as awaited them both clouds the mind of all thoughts, and only the strongest memories can pierce the senseless haze. Rathera could only dream that she had made so deep an impression upon her lover. He meant the world to her, and through all those years of torment she had clung to images of him, to his soothing voice echoing in her mind, calming her no matter what pain was inflicted upon her spirit form.   
  
If she could not be with him through the coming pain, at least she might perhaps lessen his burden before he forever departed Ra's light. Leaning closer to him, Rathera whispered, "My love . . . Why did you not warn me sooner? I could have . . . I . . ." She broke off, tears running down her face.   
  
Scarab squeezed her hand very gently, turning his head to face her. "What could you have hoped to do, love?" he asked, his voice soft as a whisper. "My time is at an end, and there is nothing anyone can do to prevent that. Even if I had the Prince now, I would not have the energy to drain his soul."   
"Then at least I could have gone to Anubis and begged him to give you more time, done something. . . Anything... besides watch your end so helplessly!"   
  
"Anubis would hardly grant me an extension, my love. Trying would only lead to you humiliation." Summoning the strength to prop himself up on one elbow, he brushed tears from her cheek and lifts her chin, gazing intently into her sad brown eyes. "Believe that your mere presence has made this a more pleasant experience."   
  
Rathera gently carressed his cheek, tracing over the familar wrinkles. "If only I could do more, beloved. I cannot just . . . Just sit here! I wish we had more time . . . Ra help me, to never see you again . . . I cannot bear this!"   
  
"My dearest Rathera," he started, sinking back down against his pillow. "The memory of you could turn the most torturous hell into the Field of Reeds." His eyes sank closed and he lay, deathly still.   
  
Rathera moaned in anguish, clutching Scarab's hand as she watched his life dwindle away to nothing. "Beloved..." She whispered softly, although she knew that he had passed to the place where he could not hear her.   
  
"I wish," he softly continued, working to stay awake, to keep his chest rising and falling with each laborious breath. "I wish there was some way . . . I could tell you. Some way I could let you know . . . just how much you mean to me . . . Rathera."   
  
Rathera sighed inwardly, her hand trembling as his words sunk into her soul. Could it be possible, then, that Scarab did love her as much as she had always wished, had always dreamed? Yes, so it seemed, for there was no misunderstanding the emotions in his sorrowed eyes. "I know," She whispered softly, "I know Scarab."   
  
He smiled at her words, at the deep calm that settled over his soul. "Now," he thought, closeing his eyes again, "I can die." It was so peacefull, if he didn't think of the torture that lay beyond. It simply felt . . . like being tired after a hard day and finally being able to lie down. To sleep. Though a sleep haunted by eternal nightmares, unable to be awoken from. But as long as he remembered her, and her memory _would_ be with him forever, there would always be pleasure. "I'm sorry . . ." he murmered, his words almost too soft to hear, "sorry I couldn't . . . hold out longer, Rathera. So much . . . I wanted . . . to be with you." And then he was silent.   
  
Leaning close to hear his whispered words, Rathera bowed her head as a wave of anguish washed over her. "No!" She screamed inwardly, "Do not leave me! I love you!" But she did not speak- could not speak. There was so much left to say, and no time at all- at least for Scarab. What would she do now? No one would accept her. She had devoted herself to Scarab, in the false hope that he would be there forever. And now he was gone. Gone!   
  
A shadow fell across the doorway, blocking the light from the sobbing Rathera. Half turning to peer up at the intruder, Rathera looked at the tall man bleakly, tears clouding her vision. The figure was recognizable enough- her brother Rath, complete with his tall hat and imposing stance. Normally, Rathera would grow angry at his presence here in the home of Scarab, would be ashamed to have him see her in such a pathetic state. But now, her heart numb with grief, Rathera did not even speak in acknowledgement of his presence.   
  
Rath took the scene in with a single glance around the room. His enemy, Scarab, lay motionless in the dark room, while his sister knelt beside him sobbing quietly, hardly even noticing his entrance. It was plainly obvious what had happened.   
  
Scarab was dead.   
  
A strange feeling of uncertainty, and almost paranoia, settled across his broad shoulders. That seemed so hard to believe, somehow, that it just could not be true. This had to be some kind of elaborate trap. . . or something.   
  
But the look on his sisters face spoke the plain truth of the matter. As unlikely as it seemed, the Prince's main enemy _was_ dead. And while half his mind wondered in numb shock, "So what happens now?" The other half burned with the image of his grief stricken sister.   
  
"Rathera . . ." The one broken word clawed it's way from his throat, his voice so heavy with emotion that it conveyed several senses at once. There was confusion, tainted with disbelief, a hollow emptiness, sorrow, almost pity, and an almost hidden edge that sought to comfort.   
  
Rathera met Rath's gaze with a lost, uncertain look. "I can't... I can't believe he's..." She could not say it. To speak of Scarab being dead was to somehow make it more... more real. So final, so unchangable. She had never felt this helpless in her life- not even during Mishran's torments, not even when she'd watched her son burned in the fires of the Council executioner.   
  
Turning back to look down at the still body of Scarab, Rathera's wild sobs escaped uncontrollably. She sank against the bed, hiding her face in her arms while hopelessly gripping Scarab's hand.   
  
Rath regarded her with an odd feeling of revelation. For all the times she had betrayed them, it was not out of hate that she acted, but out of love for this man, their enemy. And as treacherous as she was, she was his sister . . . And he did love her. And to watch her, so utterly destroyed, would have broken his heart, had it not been removed millennia ago. As it was, he felt it in his soul that he must do _something_.   
  
"Rathera, I . . ." he started, moving beside her. He reached toward her, but hesitated, not sure how she would react. dropping his arm to his side again, he simply finished, "I'm sorry."   
  
Rathera winced, managing to whisper, "No you aren't... you've won. The prince's enemy is dead. Go celebrate your victory." There was no mistaking the bitter sarcasm in her voice.   
  
Shaking his head, he replied seriously, "What have we won? The Prince is hardly out of danger now, simply because your love is gone. There are many dangers in this new world, and it is our duty to protect the Prince from all of them." Looking into the face of his long-time enemy he feels a tug of something resembling sorrow. "And, in all honesty," he murmurs half to himself, his voice grave, "I _will_ miss having him as an opponent."  
  
Rathera sighed softly, whispering, "Will you really? I'm sure Ja-kal and the others will not agree." Wiping the tears from her eyes, the mage added quietly to herself, "Ra help me, I don't know what I'll do without him.... he has been everything to me..."  
  
How he hated seeing her reduced to this. She was usually so defiantly strong, and now . . . He could see that Scarab's death was killing her too. Kneeling down beside her and swallowing his pride, he tried to think of a way to phrase what he felt. "I know you're not likely, to believe this," he started, "and even less likely to act on it, but . . ." Taking a deep breath, and steadying himself for her reaction, whatever it might be, he finished, "you can _always_ come to me, no matter what."  
  
Rathera turned to study Rath, her face expressionless. Something in his voice, in his eyes, told her that he meant what he said. "Thank you." She whispered brokenly. "Thank you, my brother. I... I have nowhere else to turn, now. I know that I have not... not kept my oath to the Prince as you asked, and that I have hardly gone out of my way to be kind to the rest of you, but..." Sighing, she absently clutched the scarab shaped amulet around her neck. "I loved him. What else could I do?"   
  
He put a supporting hand on her shoulder. "I don't think there was anything you _could_ have done. Emotions hardly ever follow reason."  
  
Rathera smiled sadly, looking down again at the body of Scarab. "No, they don't." She agreed softly. Her emotions firmly in check, she whispered, "We should get back to the sphinx, inform the others... Shehera..." A sigh escaped her lips. "Hathor guide me, how will I tell her? To lose her father again..."  
  
"I'm sure she will be able to handle it, after all, she has her mother's strength." Putting an arm around Rathera's shoulders and giving her a half hug, Rath added, "And her family's support. Let's go."   
  
======================   
  
When the snakemobile containing the two siblings pulled up in front of the sphinx, Rathera got out silently, following her brother inside. In the main room, the three ''main'' guardians- Ja-kal, Armon, and Nefer-tina- chatted with Presley. Hearing their conversation, Rathera forced back a sob. As usual, they were predicting the attacks Scarab might make in the near future.   
  
But Scarab, she knew, would make no more attacks.   
  
Upon noticing their entry, Ja-kal turned. "Back already?" he asked rhetorically. Addressing Rath, he added, "What was she up to _this_ time?"   
  
Rathera winced at her leader's harsh words, bowing her head to stare fixedly at the artistic hieroglyphs painted over the stone floor. She thought that none of her emotions showed on her calm face, but in actuality her grief still shone in her brown eyes.   
  
"Nothing," Rath replied without much resolution.   
  
Ja-kal crossed his arms and regarded the pair with a skeptical expression. "Really," he stated more than asked. "If she didn't do anything, than why do I get the feeling that you are hiding something from us?"   
  
Rathera glared bitterly at Ja-kal, snapping harshly, "Perhaps because we are hiding something from you- but it is no concern of yours." She stomped past the leader, heading towards her sarcophagus which was propped at the other side of the room.   
  
As the angry mage brushed past him, Presley noticed an odd look in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked innocently, catching her arm and staring up at her with an almost concerned expression. "You look like you just lost your best friend or something."   
  
Rathera winced, her whole body shaking with supressed rage and sorrow. "It's nothing." She muttered as she wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to glower down at the young prince. Writhing free of his grasp, she slumped to the floor next to her sarcophagus, drawing her knees to her chest and hiding her face in her hands.   
  
Ja-kal started at the mixed emotions in the female mage's voice, as her brother went to her side. Very seldom did the pair get along well, and between Rath's support and the anger and sadness in her tone . . . Something terrible must have happened to her.   
  
Presley glanced around at his other guardians before looking back to the two mages. Part of him was somewhat wary, but the other part wanted to know what could make someone so sad. Kneeling before the two, he asked the room at large, "What happened?"   
  
Shehera, who had been lounging in the back of the chamber when her mother and uncle had arrived, followed Presley over and knelt beside him. "Mommy, what happened?" She echoed the prince's question.   
  
Rathera leaned on Rath's shoulder, grateful for her brother's support. She gazed down at the two children. Her voice trembling, she barely managed to choke out, "Scarab..." before lapsing into an anguished silence.   
  
"Scarab!" Ja-kal exclaimed in alarm, rushing over. "What did he do this time!?"   
  
Glaring at him fiercely, Rathera hissed, "Scarab has done nothing, and unless I am quite mistaken, he will never do anything again..." The mage bowed her head, unwilling to even look Ja-kal in the eyes. Shehera listened to all of this in a state of confusion, turning to Ja-kal seeking an explanation.   
  
"And just what do you mean by that, Rathera? You know as well as I that Scarab would never give up, not unless he . . ."   
  
Rath looked up when Ja-kal trailed off, and saw his face become almost expresionless as the realisation sunk in.   
  
Rathera, her voice strangely high pitched and unnatural, whispered, "Unless he were dead."   
  
At Presley's side, Shehera let out a strangled gasp. "Daddy..." Tears welled up in her eyes and she stood up quickly, running to her own small sarcophagus and crawling in. The door slammed shut, and the sounds of sobbing echoed from within.   
  
Both Presley and Rath half rose when Shehera fled, while Ja-kal and the other guardians simply absorbed the information in quiet shock.   
  
Rathera sighed heavily, pulling herself to her feet and trudging over to Shehera's sarcophagus. Her eyes shadowed but clear from tears, she opened the door and gently lifted her daughter out. Shehera wept brokenly as her mother picked her up.   
  
However, Rathera could think of no words of comfort for her daughter. Sitting down on the stone couch, the mage watched helplessly as Shehera sat beside her grieving for her father. Meeting Rath's gaze in a mute plea, Rathera fixedly studied the hieroglyphics carved into the couch.   
  
Armon stood behind the couch, rendered motionless by the news that the siblings brought. Even the grumblings of his stomach went unnoticed by him as he met Ja-kal's gaze with one of uncertaintly. Ja-kal was the leader, after all- he'd know what to do. He had to know what to do. Watching the display of sorrow from those two who had cared so much for Scarab, Armon felt sick. The dark beetle mage had done nothing but waste the life Anubis had granted him, and now the gods had taken away his final year. At the very least, Scarab should have done something to show himself worthy of the gods' boon, should have used it for something other than his obsessive quest.   
  
Perched up atop a table near the center of the room, Nefer-tina's thoughts were muddled and curious. Had Scarab died in such turmoil as Nefer-tina, with his goals left unreached, so many secrets still hidden from the world that he had longed to expose? Likely not, but still, the cat guardian could not help but wonder who Scarab had really been. She knew him only as a man in armor, fighting against a cause that she had lost her life for so many years ago. Yet there had to be something more to him, to leave Rathera and Shehera in a state of such grief.   
  
Rath sat down on the other side of his young niece, searching for something to say. The best he could come up with was, "I know how you feel. Our father died too, when we were about your age. I know how hard it is."   
  
Shehera nodded bitterly, wiping her eyes and staring forlornely up at her uncle. She did not move, so lost was she in her private sorrows. How could Scarab be dead? She had never known a day without him, for he had outlived her once before. And now, it seemed, it was time for her to outlive him. If this pathetic existence as an ageless mummy could even be called living! She'd been happy to be resurrected, but only because it gave her more time with her mother and father. But now, it was only her and her mother- and her uncle, who seemed now to be so kind, a phase that she was quite certain would not last.   
  
A faint blush crept over Rathera's features at Rath's words, but she decided that now would not be the best time to comment on *that* occurence. Instead, she put her arm around her daughter wordlessly, closing her eyes to her surroundings and dreaming that Scarab was still alive, that he was still with her now...   
  
Ja-kal watched the group without truly seeing them. His mind was far off, reliving his own death back in Egypt. How had his two sons fared without him? Had they shown as much grief as Shehera did now, faced with the loss of her own father? And what of Tia, whom he had loved more than any other in this world? What had become of her, a single mother, unable to support herself and the two children Ja-kal had left with her. Rarely did Ja-kal let himself think of them, for when he did guilt consumed him. He should have been there, not running after the Prince to guard him. And Scarab should have spent his lives with those who cared similarly for him, not chasing an immortality that was not his to take. All of them had been fools.   
  
Presley turned his eyes toward the ground. He kind of knew what it was like, not to have a father. He hardly ever saw his real father, and the closest he had to a substitute would be his guardian Ja-kal. He was actually pretty lucky, once he thought about it. No one really close to him had ever died, and the threat . . . the former threat of Scarab, had always been counterbalanced by the protection his guardians. Who else had a bunch of mummies as friends and teachers? He just felt kind of akward, since everyone else in the room had died and lost their families. A faint twinge in the back of his mind told him that he, too, had died once, but it didn't really feel like it. He could lead a normal, well, almost normal life, but their souls could not be reincarnated as long as they were protecting him.   
  
Rathera stared despondently out into space, her eyes shadowed with unconsolable sorrow. By now, Scarab's Ka would have been tested in the Weighing of the Heart Ceremony, and by now faced the eternal torment of the underworld. A torment that still haunted her own dreams.... and Scarab was so weak, so old...   
  
Although she did not realize it, Rathera's sobbing had begun again. Why hadn't she been able to aid him in getting immortality, if only to spare him the torture of the underworld?? Or, failing that, she could have tried... tried to do what? Scarab had been obsessed, she would never have convinced him to work to save his soul, or to enjoy the happiness of his extended life free from foolish ambition.   
  
Rath's feeling of hopelessness expanded as he watched his sister cry. Was there nothing he could do to help her? So rarely did he feel overwhelmed by any situation that, when he did, he felt trapped and panicky. The tears dripped from Rathera's chin, down onto Shehera's arms where they were wrapped tightly around her mother's waist.   
  
Reaching out and brushing the tears from her face with a tenderness he seldom ever admitted to feeling, he reflected on how it took a tragedy to bring them together again, after all theses years. And a tragedy that was a blessing to some. His eyes swept around the room, taking in the other's reactions. Everyone seemed thoroughly absorbed in their own thoughts, even the young prince was pensive. It would obviously take a while for everyone to adjust to this new situation, after all this time with Scarab as their opponent. It was like pushing against a locked doorway, only to have it suddenly disappear; he felt like he was falling.   
  
Rathera glanced upward at Rath's touch, having forgotten he was even there. As her gaze traveled around the room, the mage realized that all had witnessed her grief- something she would never have consciously allowed. But it didn't seem to matter now, for even Ja-kal and Nefer-tina were lost in their contemplations of Scarab's death.   
  
Scarab's death. Gods, even now she could not believe he was truly gone from her. The notion was beyond her comprehension- after so long with him always there, never changing- the shock numbed her mind and sent her soul in turmoil.   
  
Suddenly, it occured to Presley, "What's going to happen to all of you now? Now that Scarab's dead, are all of you going to die again?"   
  
Rathera smiled bitterly, commenting before she thought, "For once it seems the mischief of Lord Mishran works in my favor- or against me, depending on how you look at it." She did not care to explain this cryptic remark, and instead tried to sidetrack, "Regardless, there are several other threats to you, oh prince. Gods regularly escape through the Western Gate, and Scarab rarely worked alone- many of his minions will still seek your soul after his death. So I would suppose the gods would leave you your guardians. Well, at least the ones they consider necessary." _Which I am not._ The words ran through her mind, but she refused to acknowledge them even to herself.   
  
Presley looked relieved, but also a little guilty for keeping his guardians from their afterlife. They had put so much time and effort in to keeping him safe.   
  
Ja-kal rose an eyebrow at Rathera's first comment and asked, "What does Mishran have to do with your remaining, or not remaining, animated?"   
  
Rathera blushed faintly. "Err... well... umm..." Sighing, she finally snapped, "Did you REALLY think Ra would resurrect such as me to guard the prince? Mishran was the one who resurrected me, and because of that my armor and lifeforce is powered by Seth, the god worshipped by the Council, and not Lord Ra. I will not lose my animation until Mishran grows tired of me."   
  
Rath winced, murmuring, "That is, you are to him a mere plaything he bought for his amusement, to be cast aside whenever he is bored. Why didn't you mention that earlier?"   
  
"What would have been the point?" Rathera replied with a shrug. She seemed to the others to have set aside her grief over Scarab, at least temporarily. Then a sudden thought struck her. "Oh no... today is Thursday... no... I cannot take that... not tonight..." She stuttered, a look of abject terror in her black eyes. "Not after this.... not after Scarab...." She seemed unable to continue and merely sat on the couch shaking noticeably.   
  
"Were there anything I could do, Rathera, I would gladly do it if it would help you." Rath offered sincerely. "But what could I do, facing immortals? Do they have any weakness that you know of?" He asked.  
  
Rathera laughed softly, a hollow sound devoid of any true emotion. "Of COURSE they don't have any weaknesses. If they did, I guarantee all of us would have risen against them long ago. As it is..." Rathera shook her head. "With Scarab dead, it would seem I have little choice but to accept Mishran's offer of... of marriage.   
  
Rath jumped slightly. "Marriage?!" he exclaimed, "There is no was in the world I could let you do such a thing. The way he treats you..." He broke off, a shadow flickering across his eyes as he remembered something from long ago. Something nearly forgotten, and forcibly so.   
  
Rathera's words interrupted his thoughts. "I may well have no choice. To agree would... would ensure my freedom from slavery to the Council. I have held off his proposal because it meant... it meant leaving Scarab. But now, little else remains to me. I will either marry him, or simply end my animate state." With a wry but bitter smile, she added, "At the moment, I cannot determine which would be worse."   
  
Rath shook his head, an odd look on his face. "Come with me," he said softly, rising quickly and taking her wrist.   
  
Rathera followed him, looking rather confused. When they were out of hearing of the other guardians, she asked softly, "What is it, brother?" "I cannot stand by and watch you marry Mishran _or_ take your life," he replied. "And he cannot take you if you owe your loyalty to someone else."Rathera narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that? My oath to the prince means nothing to him..."   
  
Rath shook his head. "Not that, I mean..." He paused, trying to think of how to say what he was thinking so that it would not sound ludicrous. With a sigh he continued, "You remember our mother's dying request?"  
  
Rathera laughed softly. "How could I forget? Our mother never did understand either of us." She frowned suddenly. "You aren't suggesting...?"  
  
"It's the only way I can think of to protect you from him." He sent her a determined glare. "And I will protect you. Even if you refuse, I'll find a way."   
  
Studying Rath's face intently, Rathera murmured thoughtfully, "I do believe you would. I suppose to prevent you from doing anything foolhardy, I must accept. Although it is... difficult... for me to do so. If the act angers him enough, then m'lord Mishran may well try to eliminate you completely."   
  
"I'm willing to risk that," he replied earnestly. Then with a smirk he added, "I'm already dead anyway. I think the others are quite capable of guarding the prince in my absence. And if the worst _should_ happen, then I shall see you next in the field of reeds."   
  
Rathera winced and replied quietly, "No, you shall go to the field of reeds, and I will return to my eternal damnation. That is the law of Ma-at. Nothing I have done can make up for my crimes... but still, your solution is better than anything I can come up with. I... I do not think I could marry Mishran regardless... the mere thought..." There was a look of pure disgust on her face.   
  
Rath put a hand on each of her shoulders, making her look at him. "Then do not think about it. I will always protect you, Rathera. Never forget that."   
  
Rathera smiled sadly. "Thank you, brother. You cannot know..." She broke off with a forced grin. "Just.. thank you."   
  
Nefer-tina's sniggering became audible in the background, and she said between laughs, "Sorry to intrude on private 'family time', but I was caught up in your beautiful marriage proposal Rath... nicely done indeed." Her smirk broadened as she added, "I think everyone in the sphinx should hear about you two lovebirds."   
  
If Rath had had blood, it would have risen to his face now, from anger or embarrassment, but more likely both. "Nef... What are... Don't you dare..." he started trying to find the right reply.   
  
Sighing, Rathera murmured, "Nefer-tina, do not comment on things that you cannot possibly comprehend."   
  
Nefer-tina giggled, "Oh, but I understand perfectly... a little family love being shown here, eh?" Without another word she rushed off to the main room with the possible intent of telling everyone what she had heard.   
  
Rath sighed, covering his eyes with his hands and muttering bitterly, "I suppose we should go after her, the others will not understand this."   
  
Rathera nodded her agreement, and the pair walked quickly into the main room- and were immediately confronted by the stone wall that was Ja-kal. Their leader looked down at them with an expression of the deepest disgust and repulsion, although his tone betrayed only sarcasm as he commented, "Why Rath, I wasn't aware you cared for your *sister* so... dearly."  
  
Fuming, Rath snapped, "It's not like that..."   
  
Ja-kal interrupted, "I don't know what to say to that. It almost seems you were just waiting for Scarab to die in order to..."   
  
Jumping into the conversation, Rathera hissed, "Don't even THINK that, Ja-kal! I loved Scarab- but then, love is something *you* cannot possibly understand!!"   
  
The expression on Ja-kal's face hardened to one of pure fury and Rath thought it best to intervene.  
  
"I find your sarcasm completely out of place, Ja-kal... especially given the current situation." Rath stated, standing between the two. "I do this only so that I might *protect* my *sister*. I cannot bear to think of the hell she would live under Mishran."   
  
Rathera winced, looking down at the painted floor of the sphinx, tears renewed within her eyes. "Look Ja-kal," She whispered, "I know that you have never cared much for me, and have indeed resented my presence here among the guardians. But..."   
  
Narrowing his blue eyes, Ja-kal interceded, "But what? I do not approve, and it should be obvious as to why, though it seems there is nothing I can do to change you two lovebirds' minds..." He smirked, adding, "Although as the representative of Pharaoh Amenhotep in this time, I could deny you the right to make this decision..."   
  
Rath closed his eyes in exasperation as Nefer-tina commented from across the room, "Aww Ja-kal, why would you want to get in the way of their true love?"   
  
Shehera and Presley exchanged a glance, both wrinkling their noses in disgust. Shehera said nervously, "Umm... Presley... would you like to go... play with my pet snakes?"   
  
Presley replied too hastily, "Sure!" He muttered under his breath, "Anything would be better than listening to this." The two rushed off, displaying understandable eagerness to get away from the adult conversation.   
  
Snapping at Nefer-tina, Rath exclaimed, "IT IS NOT LIKE THAT AND YOU KNOW IT!!!!"   
  
Ja-kal frowned. "Then what is it like? I would greatly appreciate an explanation! Since neither of you have seemed too fond of each other in the past, and all you say now is that this new… closeness… has something to do with 'Mishran', whoever he is?!"   
  
Rathera shuddered. "Alright Ja-kal, come with me. Such things are not for the ears of children." She cast a cold glance at Nefer-tina.   
  
Ja-kal crossed his arms and stated, "Anything you have to tell me you can tell all of us."   
  
Rath gritted his teeth. "I believe it is in the best interest of all concerned that you simply go with us. I know what she has to say, and it is hardly pleasant."   
  
Rathera remained silent, lost in her own thoughts, as Ja-kal gave the pair a dark glance. Looking back at the other guardians, he replied, "Fine then, I will come, but if I feel that what you say should be known by the entire team I reserve the right to tell them."  
  
A look of despair crossed Rathera's face, for what she had to say was hardly something she wanted as general knowledge. But her voice remained calm as she responded, "It is a personal matter, nothing more. Follow me." The three adjourned to Rathera's lab.  
  
---~~~---  
  
Rathera finished her explanation with a sigh. "And that is why Rath offered to.. to marry me.. simply as a protection from Mishran."  
  
Had he not died a few thousand years past, Ja-kal's face would have gone ash white. His thoughts were confused, and he stuttered, "You… he... umm... uh..."   
  
Smirking, Rath commented, "Yes, that's about what I said when I first heard of it. But you are actually quite fortunate, when I learned of it Rathera was only... 14, I believe... and I saw her after her... first night with Mishran. So in case you are skeptical, Rathera speaks the truth."   
  
"Who knew such horrors existed beneath the streets of San Francisco?" Ja-kal murmured, his expression unreadable although he was undoubtedly worried about the threat this might pose to Presley.   
  
"About every so-called 'goth' you see on the street!" Rathera replied with false cheer, although her mind was still back with the past she had just revealed to the leader, "Really Ja-kal, Mishran's not that bad- by Council estimation, anyways. Daddy Ao's even worse."   
  
"Daddy Ao?" Ja-kal glanced up in surprise. "Who are you talking about?"   
  
Rathera made a face. "The Grand Lord Ao to us slaves, of course. He's my father, kind of... more of my creator... it is a little complicated to try and explain."  
  
"I'll accept that, for now." Ja-kal glanced at Rath. "Did you know of this?"  
  
Rath nodded mutely, giving his sister another concerned glance. "You understand now why she did not want to share this with everyone?"  
  
Ja-kal grinned evilly, "Yes, but it is my decision that she will do so regardless. Call it.. a fitting revenge."   
  
Rathera's expression froze, and she slowly sat down, her face white with terror. "You... you wouldn't..." She whispered brokenly.   
  
Rath simply stared at Ja-kal. "I don't know why, but I did not expect you to sink so low."   
  
Rathera said quietly, "Rath, please leave. I have things to discuss with Ja-kal."   
  
Rath looked like he was about to argue. "Sister..." He began.   
  
"Now, my brother." Rathera replied with a soft hiss. Sighing, Rath strode out of the room.   
  
Ja-kal faced Rathera coldly. "What do you want, then?"   
  
"Look Ja-kal, you cannot nurse this grudge against me forever! Think with your mind and not with your rage. Would it strengthen your position as leader here to humiliate me before the others, especially after... Scarab..." She choked off, staring at the floor, then continued with implacable calm, "Far from it, dear leader. You would sacrifice their respect, and all for revenge against me. Is that what you want?"   
  
Ja-kal shuddered with rage, his eyes brimming with anger. "You killed my cousin, and you speak of my reputation as a leader! I would see you suffer for what you did to her!"   
  
Rathera's gaze was harsh. "What, my time with Mishran is not enough penalty for all my crimes? I am suprised at you, leader."   
  
"You slew a child in cold blood! Nothing will make up for that..."   
  
Rathera smiled with bitter triumph. "Then stop trying to make up for it. The child learned the secret location of the Council headquarters. Orders are orders, Ja-kal, and I was sent to eliminate the security threat. Your precious Pharoah gave such orders to kill children of the Council when they were found, it is no different. I do not claim to be an angel, but I am no worse than the rest of you."   
  
Ja-kal sighed, gritting his teeth to control the angry response begging to leave his lips. "Very well. I never before had any proof it was you who killed her... but your confession is proof enough for me now. Know well, mage, when next given the chance I shall strike against you in any way I can!"   
  
Rathera waved his words away. "Then I shall have to make sure that you are never again given the chance!"   
  
Ja-kal smiled without mirth. "I will make one for myself, obstinate one."   
  
Rathera looked at him sadly. "I care not. Now, if you would kindly leave me in peace...."   
  
Ja-kal snapped, "So that you may plot my downfall?"   
  
Rathera slowly sank into a chair, her face shadowed. "No. So that I may mourn the passing of the only man I ever dared love."   
  
Ja-kal looked at her thoughtfully, and left the room without a word. Slumping down into the chair, Rathera wept freely, her thoughts with Scarab on his trials to reach the afterlife.   


* * *

  
END OF PART I!  
I hope you enjoyed this. Remember that it is only an alternate reality story! You may now return to your regularly scheduled MA community where Scarab is still alive and well. 


	2. Default Chapter Title

...They can take

  
  


* * *

Disclaimer: You already know the usual DIC drill. Anyhoo, is an alternate reality story, the follow up story to What the Gods Give... It mainly concerns Scarab's death (**cries**), and the affect it has on those around him. Thanks to Caisia for the use of Calliope, Jade for the use of Samuel Hawkes, Nephrenia for the use of well... Nephrenia, and Lacey for the use of Corryn in this story. These chars are a lot of fun to write for ;-)   
  
For those of you unfamiliar with the aforementioned fan characters, the bios are available online and you might find them of interest: Corryn ~ http://members.nbci.com/MARoads/corrbio.html   
Rathera ~ http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Cavern/9615/Rathera/rathera.htm   
Calliope ~ http://members.nbci.com/khesala/calliope.html   
Samuel Hawkes & Nephrenia~ http://members.nbci.com/_XMCM/jadejj/page7.htm   
Mishran and the Council of Chaos (a fancreation by me ;-) ~ http://www.geocities.com/chaos_council/   
And now..... on with the story.....  


* * *

  
  
Corryn walked into the sphinx casually, looking for Rath. Although she was well aware that the green hatted scribe detested her company, Corryn had been unable to find Scarab and did not feel like spending the day alone. Besides, Rath's annoyance at her presence promised to be entertaining.   
  
The scene at the sphinx was far from ordinary. Their was a hushed feeling over the room, and the guardians pursued their individual hobbies with quiet dedication that was most unlike them. Raising her eyebrows, Corryn fluttered through the room unnoticed. She went into Rathera's lab, thinking that most likely the mage would know where Scarab was.   
  
Rathera glanced up bleakly as the half imp entered. The dark mage's eyes were shadowed, her face was streaked with tears.   
  
Although Corryn had caught Rathera weeping many a time - the mage was always in grief over something, it seemed to the half imp- this was different. There was a hopelessness in Rathera's eyes, and Corryn felt a sense of fear. "What has happened?" She asked in her light voice.   
  
"Corryn." Rathera whispered. She sighed softly. The imp, once her rival for Scarab's attentions- unbeknownst to Scarab, most amusingly- must not have been there when she had told the group what had happened. Best to get it over with quickly, then. In halting tones, she stated. "Scarab... is dead."   
  
Corryn's eyes went wide with shock. "Impossible!" She half whispered. The half imp ran from the sphinx, flying over to the Western Gate. She perched atop the golden gate bridge, staring down over the bay. It was so hard to imagine Scarab dead; Scarab, who had never ceased in his quest to prevent this very day, this end to his existence. She had loved him, though it was clear that the feeling was not mutual. And for his crimes, which she destested, it had been her task to kill him, so long ago...   
  
A sudden thought entered Corryn's head. If Scarab was dead, then mayhap the Council would withdraw her sentence of exile, would allow her to return home. The thought held little pleasure for her now. The Western Gate was not truly her home, for she was a spirit caught between worlds. Yet there was nothing left for her in this world, with Scarab gone. And beyond the gate... again, nothing. However she was not as much of an outcast there. At least beyond the gate, her inhuman aspects were accepted- it was her humanity which hindered her there.   
  
Bowing her head, the half imp wept, her salty tears flowing down to the icy water below.   
  
~~~~~~  
  
Ja-kal walked out of the sphinx, his thoughts still clouded from his conversation with Rathera. A brown trenchcoat billowed about him as he walked down the sidewalk. Sitting down on a bench not too far from the sphinx, the guardian bowed his head in thought.   
  
A voice from behind him interrupted his contemplations. "Hello, Ja-kal." Ja-kal smiled, turning to greet the woman who housed the soul of his wife.   
  
Calliope slid down on the bench next to him. She asked in concern, "What are you doing out here with that gloomy look about you? Problems at the sphinx? Did Scarab..."   
  
Jak-al interrupted, "Scarab is dead."   
  
Calliope's eyes widened in shock. "How...?"   
  
Ja-kal replied with a certain uncharacteristic amount of bitter sarcasm, "He died of old age, in his *sleep*."   
  
Calliope stared at him in confustion. The spirit of Tiamu-ri inside her was shocked- Scarab, the vile old man who had taken her as a concubine as a child; the man who had hounded her here in the modern world as he was taken over by his desire to repossess that which had once been his; the man who had just died... in his sleep? Impossible! The logical portion of Calliope's mind explored the possibilites fervently. It could well be a trick, one of Scarab's plans. "Are... are you sure he's dead?" She asked Ja-kal.   
  
Ja-kal nodded. "The threat to our prince is ended." He said with no trace of emotion.   
  
Calliope looked at him in disgust. "A man is dead, and that is all you have to say?"   
  
Ja-kal laughed and muttered, "Rathera has taken care of whatever else there is to say on the matter."   
  
Calliope frowned. Rathera... "Scarab's lover?" She said thoughtfully. Ah yes, her. The one who had known Tiamu-ri's past. "How is she handling it?"   
  
Ja-kal rolled his eyes. "As well as can be expected." A note of suprise in his voice, he added, "She loved him. I didn't even realize it."   
  
Calliope sighed, her own thoughts back with Garret and her son Patrick. "Of course she did."   
  
Ja-kal sighed. "There were times when I thought she stayed with him just to irritated the rest of us."   
  
Calliope's sigh came from the depths of Tiamu-ri's memories. "No one would stay with Scarab just to irritate you. Well, unless they had a very high tolerance for pain."   
  
Ja-kal looked at Calliope thoughtfully, but did not comment. Instead he said, "I can hardly believe that Scarab is... well... dead."   
  
Calliope nodded in understanding.   
  
The two sat in silence.   
  
~~~~~~  
  
Corryn flew down from the gate, alighting in a deserted ally. Casually casting the illusion spell that would give her a human appearance, she walked out among the natives. Sitting on a bench in the quieter area of the park, she awaited the few moments of the day when the Western Gate would be open to incoming traffic. The sun still shown brightly in the sky, and she had some difficulty tuning out the world around her to wallow in her own memories.   
  
Samuel Hawkes walked through the streets of San Fransisco, wondering where his wife was. She was still a very independent woman even after their marriage, and more often than not these days he had no idea of her plans or whereabouts. But his love for her remained strong, and he was willing to go along with all but her wildest fancies.   
  
His gaze was caught, most abruptly, by the young lady lounging on a bench by the path. This, he recognized despite her illusionary guise, had to be his wife.   
  
Samuel quietly approached the object of his affections. Plucking a rose from a nearby bush, he slipped behind Corryn's bench and placed the rose in her hands.   
  
Corryn jumped slightly and turned. Samuel leaned down to kiss her cheek, but stopped seeing the clear distress on her face. "What's wrong, my love?" He asked softly.   
  
Looking up at her husband sadly, Corryn whispered, "Scarab died."   
  
Samuel studied his wife in silence. He was well aware of Corryn's former infatuation with Scarab, as much as he liked to deny it. Looking into her eyes now, he knew that she still mourned for him as one might over the death of a lost love. "I'm... I'm sorry..." He whispered, head bowed.   
  
Corryn winced. Her plan for returning through the western gate... she hadn't realized, but it would clearly require her to leave Samuel behind. She missed that world, but still the human part of her heritage bound her to stay with her love. She could wait for his human frailty to overtake him and lead to his death, but... it seemed cruel to both of them.   
  
Leaning into Samuel's arms, Corryn wept with renewed vigor.   
  
~~~~~~  
  
Rathera walked out of her lab and nearly collided with Calliope and Ja-kal, who had just returned from their talk. Rathera sent Ja-kal a glare so fierce it could cause a lesser man to stop in his tracks, then brushed past them and out of the sphinx.   
  
Calliope watched in confusion as Rathera and Ja-kal exchanged wrathful looks. When the mage left, Calliope cornered Ja-kal. "What was that about?!"   
  
Ja-kal glowered down at her. "She has crossed the line, completely, now. I will not tolerate her presence much longer among the guardians."   
  
"What? You'd cast her out now, when she's just lost her love?"   
  
"That's her problem." Ja-kal's voice was strained and unnatural. "I refuse to have that... murderer... here any longer!"   
  
"What? Murderer? Ja-kal, what are you talking about?"   
  
Ja-kal sighed softly. "She killed my cousin, and the gods alone know who else. Were pharoah alive, she would like as not be sentenced to destruction."   
  
Caliope raised her eyebrows at his expression. Emphatically she said, "The gods you believe in will punish her as they see fit. It is not your place to judge her."   
  
Ja-kal was silent. ~~~~~~  
  
Rath sat in his lab alone, staring out into the expanses of the universe - well, at least into the corner of the room, but as far as anyone could tell his mind was traveling far away from his worldly bounds. His green eyes lacked their usual luster, and even when he pulled out a scroll from the cabinent and renewed his study of magic he could develop none of the enthusiasm that was characteristic of him.   
  
Nephrenia poked her head into Rath's labratory. She'd just returned from a trip to the homeland - Egypt - where she was investigating rumors about a shabtie producing lab Scarab had concocted. Curious to learn of what she had missed, she asked loudly, "Hey, what's up Rath?"   
  
Rath groaned audibly. This was the last thing he needed. An immature mummy here to annoy him while he struggled with the issues of his far more mature existence.   
  
Nephrenia waited to no avail for Rath to reply. This was odd, she thought to herself- normally Rath had something rude to say for any occasion. The sphinx had changed, she sensed. Walking away from the lab, she pondered the matter silently.   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
Nephrenia walked up behind Ja-kal and Calliope, grimacing as she saw the pair together. A surge of jealousy ran through her, but she supressed it quickly. Who was she to begrudge them their happiness? Clearing her throat, she asked loudly, "What's up, folks?"   
  
Ja-kal jumped slightly at Nephrenia's words, suprised that with his hunter's skills he had not detected her presence sooner. As his eyes rested on Calliope, he put his lapse in wariness down to distraction of a most pleasant kind. Turning to face Nephrenia, he answered a question with another, "What are you doing back so soon? I thought you were going to spend a week on the nile."   
  
Nephrenia shrugged. "I was. But returning to the homeland... it's a little depressing."   
  
Ja-kal smiled without humour. "Well, this may cheer you up. The threat posed by Scarab has been neutralized." Nephrenia's eyes widened. Ja-kal continued bitterly, "He passed away last night... from old age."   
  
~~~   
  
Elsewhere in the sphinx, Shehera regarded Presley from her perch on the top of the library bookcase. The two had been holding a forced light conversation for at least an hour now, and Shehera's patience was wearing thin. Presley was cute, of noble blood.... she wondered if Scarab would have approved of the feelings which ran through her as she regarded the prince. Probably not. He would say that she was too young herself to understand these emotions. But she wasn't. Outwardly, she was six years of age, but her soul had matured in the several thousand years she had spent in the fields of Osiris. Mentally and emotionally, she was at least as old as the boy standing before her.   
  
Presley grew uneasy under the young mage's gaze. Something about the daughter of Scarab had always unnerved him. Icily, he inquired, "Are you and your mother planning to take up Scarab's unfinished quest?"   
  
Shehera winced. Her tone pained, she whispered, "Do not speak of Scarab to me. He is gone. For good, this time." She stared down at the ground. "And do not fear that my mother and I seek to carry out his plans. We are dead, as you may have noticed. Your soul would be little help to us now."   
  
Presley asked hesitantly, "Can you not gain your life again? There was something Rath said... about how if Scarab had wished, you would have been born as a normal child rather than as a..."   
  
"A mummy?" Shehera offered with a mischievous smile. "I suppose it would have been possible. But it is to late now. I will never age, and I will never change."   
  
Presley frowned. "That's not true, though." Shehera looked at him in confusion. "I mean... you have changed since you first were reawakened. You seem older."   
  
"That's not possible." Shehera said calmly.   
  
"But maybe it is. You died before you were, supposed to, or whatever. Isn't it possible that you will age to make up for that loss?"   
  
Hope entered Shehera's eyes for the first time in months. "You mean... I could eventually be as old as... you, say?"   
  
Presley inquired densely, "Why does that matter?"   
  
Shehera blushed faintly, her gaze dropping as she stared at the floor. "Oh, no reason."   
  
~~~   
  
Chontra walked boldly into the pyramid, carrying Heka in her hands. The two had been through the gate seeking a mirror that was said to be able to change a person in age, backwards or forewards as they so desired. Yet for each person it would only work once. Scarab had told Chontra of the location of the mirror, with the hope that she would bring it to him in time to postpone the inevitable that loomed before him.   
  
But it was too late. Chontra immediately sensed the lack of a magical presence in the pyramid as she walked through its halls. The shabtie guards stood in motionless rows, the power that had animated them no longer on this earth.   
  
Heka knew instantly that her master was gone. She looked up at Chontra. "Can you get in touch with Rathera? She'll know... where he is."   
  
Chontra swallowed back a lump of fear. "If he's anywhere at all."   
  
~~~   
  
The phone in the sphinx let out a piercing ring, and Rathera opened her eyes to glare at the infuriating device as it disturbed her thoughts. Grabbing it off the hook, she snapped, "Hello?"   
  
Chontra's voice drifted across the line. "Rathera?"   
  
"Chontra?? What brings you to this side of the Gate?"   
  
"A mission for Scarab... did he not tell you?"   
  
Rathera winced, and whispered, "No, he did not. But he is not in any condition to, I fear."   
  
Chontra sighed softly. "Then my suspicions are true, I gather." She looked once more around the empty room where Scarab had plotted and worked his magics for years now. "I'm so sorry, Rathera."   
  
Rathera ignored the words. Finally, after a painful pause, Chontra murmured, "He knew it was coming, you realize. He had sent me to find... a cure. But I came too late."   
  
"What cure?"   
  
"The mirror of Isis."   
  
Despite her sorrow, Rathera heard herself laugh, high pitched and strained. "He sent you alone to fight the goddess for her greatest treasure?"   
  
"Nay." Chontra's voice turned bitter. "I merely borrowed it."   
  
"Then you succeeded?" Rathera's words were a mere whisper.   
  
"I did, for what little good it will do now."   
  
"Bring it to the sphinx, then. I have not the heart to step into the pyramid now..."   
  
Chontra knew better than to question her friend when she was in this mood. "As you wish." She murmured, and hung up the phone. Grabbing Heka from the bed where the snake lay curled in a sobbing ball, she snapped impatiently, "What's the matter with you, serpent?"   
  
Heka looked up at Chontra and whispered, "He's dead, isn't he?"   
  
Chontra sighed, but replied, "Yes."   
  
Heka's sobs returned twofold.   
  
"Oh, for Ra's sake!" Chontra snapped peevishly. "Call Ammut. I will not stay in this tomb a moment longer!"   
  
At the sound of her name, Scarab's oft abused pet crawled out of the corner where she had lain curled up in one of Scarab's old robes. Her crocodile face looked almost sheepish as she rubbed up against Chontra's leg.   
  
Chontra's expression softened as she reached down to pet Ammut. "Hello, little one." She made her way out to Scarab's limo, holding Heka in her grasp, with Ammut trailing behind.   
  
~~~   
  
A quiet Shehera put down the reciever of the phone, having heard the entire conversation. She turned to Presley and looked at him with renewed hope. Isis's mirror could turn her into the young woman she should by rights be. Even maybe win her the prince who stood before her.   
  
Presley watched Shehera nervously. "What was that about?"   
  
Shehera got up and headed towards the door. "Nothing of importance. Only Auntie Chontra's coming!"   
  
Presley groaned. "Why is SHE here?"   
  
Shehera did not hear him, for she was already running outside. She saw the limo approach and waved vigorously. As Chontra pulled to a stop and got out, dressed in her modern clothing with her brown hair framing her face, Shehera said sweetly, "Hi Chontra!"   
  
Chontra had known Rathera's daughter long enough to know when the rascal was plotting something. "What are you up to?" She asked warily as Ammut came bounding out of the car.   
  
Shehera smiled. "I just wanted to borrow that mirror you brought back through the gate."   
  
Stiffening, Chontra asked, "How did you know about it?"   
  
"Daddy told me." Came the flippant reply. "He said I could use it too, when you brought it back. And now I want it. Hand it over... or I'll show Rath those love poems you wrote about him."   
  
Chontra sighed. It was against her better judgement to let the young child take such a powerful artifact, but it wasn't her place to stop the girl. She pulled a small mirror from her purse and handed it to Shehera wordlessly. Then she went into the sphinx to meet with Rathera.   
  
Shehera ran inside, going into one of the small closets and looking into the mirror lovingly. Scarab may have thought only of the mirror's use for changing age, but she knew more of it's full powers. It could grant her at least the semblance of humanity, and if she were careful it could help her blend in with others of this time. But one use... she just had to pray the prince had been right about her seeming to age. Otherwise, all her hopes would be shattered.   
  
The reflection in the mirror began to change as she began to weave the image to match her dreams. Instead of bleached white, her hair became brown, while her purple eyes turned to a light brown. Her grayish blue skin changed to the dark flesh tones of the women she had seen around the city. And her six year old features began to age until she was 14... just like the young prince she had idolized for so long.   
  
Looking down at herself, she saw that her typical garb was stretched to fit over her new form, the tattered remnants of bandages scattered around her. Peeking her head out of the closet, she snuck towards Nefertina's chest of clothing that the elder mummy had kept since her career as a fashion model. Finding a blue outfit that fit her tolerably well, she went into her sarco to change, hiding the mirror in the back of her sarcophogus.   
  
  
~~~  
  
Nephrenia, blinking at the news that Ja-kal had given her, had walked off around the sphinx, trying to reconcile her feeling of sorrow with the hatred she had felt for Scarab for all these years. She hadn't actually had a reason to hate Scarab, not like many of the others. And... now he was dead. And although in battle she would have killed him if she could, her witch born heritage mourned the passing of the great mage.   
  
~~~  
  
Corryn gazed solemnly at her reflection in the bay, seeing in her reflection the same clash in her two heritages that tore away at her heart. She belonged nowhere now, and nearly she cursed the strange lovematch that had resulted in her birth. As she stared up into the gate that shone in full luminescent glory to her magical eyesight, inviting her to seek solace in the confines of the spirit world and leave her mortal ties behind. Impulsively, she reached out as if to touch the portal, a longing rising in her to wrap herself in the magic and love of her father's realm.   
  
But as the half imp moved forward, the brilliant light from the gate reflected on the ring around her finger, a visible reminder of Samuel, and his love. She had to stay with him. Wanted to stay with him. Turning away from the gate, she flew off towards the city, caught up again in its bustle and laughter.   
Watching her through the gate, the spirit Bes smiled sadly as he saw his daughter fly off. "Not yet, dear heart." He murmured, "But soon. Until that time..." The trickster vanished, returning to his own home.   
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End of part II: They Can Take  
Email me with comments at rathera@hotmail.com 


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